


Could we ever be enough (baby we could be enough)

by Xfreesoulx



Category: Avengers, The Avengers
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xfreesoulx/pseuds/Xfreesoulx
Summary: “James, it’s clear you are not ready to talk about the possibility th-"Bucky shoots up immediately, shaking his head vehemently, as though if he denied the possibility hard enough, he would erase it from existence.Or(Steve has been missing for months, Bucky fist fights his own brain.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 70





	1. looking in the dark(for an empty heart)

Bucky Barnes cannot remember a time before Steven Grant Rogers. Stevie loves to roll his eyes and call him a lying sap, but Bucky genuinely means it.

He’s raked his muddled brain for decades and has yet to come up with anything. Realistically, he knows there must have been at least a few years before he picked up a pint-sized blonde punk as a sidecar, but in his brain… there’s nothing there. Not an inkling of the second birthday he’s seen black and white faded photographs of, not the day his youngest sister Winnifred was born when he was 6, nothing. Bucky has never lived in a world without Steve by his side. His fancy twenty-first century shrink always seems to take notes and shake her heads when he tells her this.

“James.” She scolds with soft looks of disapproval. "This sounds like an incredibly toxic case of severe codependency.” She warns.

Bucky just scoffs, not even willing to dignify her comment with a response. He knew he would hate this, he knew she would be like this, from the minute Stark gently suggested he talk to someone.This isn't near Bucky’s first appointment with a shrink, but every time before this, they had been attempting to decondition Hydra’s programming from his fucked up brain, and Steve had been tucked under his arm for every agonizing second. Now though, there’s no trigger words left in his brain and Steve isn’t here.

The shrink must have moved the second purple armchair that usually sat pressed against Bucky’s. It’s a considerate move on the therapist’s part, but Bucky can’t help but be angered by it. Moving the chair doesn’t fix anything. It’s not as if taking the empty chair out of Bucky’s line of vision will do anything to fill the empty void in his life. It’s not as if Bucky can ignore the loneliness that has settled in his bones or the hollow feeling in his chest that makes it hard to function on the bad days and impossible to breathe on the worst days. There’s nothing anyone can do about the destruction and terror that Steve’s disappearance has caused in Bucky’s life.

“James, you've gone quiet. Tell me how my last statement made you feel.”

The therapist sets her pen down on the pad of paper resting in her lap. Even with his super serum vision, he’s not quite able to make out the tiny lettering she has sprawled over the pages, so instead he just sighs and readjusts, letting his head rest against the back of the armchair. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to ground himself back to reality again. Eventually, he leans forward, wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans, licks his lips and tries to explain his way of existence.

“You’ll never understand.” He murmurs into his hands.

“Then I need you to help me understand James.”

Her tone is soft, with a sympathetic hint and it has him gritting his teeth. He’s not angry, not really. He’s frantic and he feels as though the world is collapsing around him and everything hurts. Bucky is no stranger to feeling useless, as though he is clinging to the last ounce of his sanity and fraught with utter hopelessness, but these emotions are simply too much to unpack, they expose his heart to more vulnerability, the last thing Bucky is convinced he needs right now. Anger though, anger he is well acquainted with handling alone. He’s spent nearly every conscious moment of the past 70 years being angry, feeling pure unfiltered rage towards his captors, for everything they’d done to him and made him do to others. But even there, he had Steve in his head to keep him company. Now, even thinking about his sweetheart brought on more anguish and pain.  
Bucky huffs again, this time with annoyance instead of resignation.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, this whole fucking thing is stupid. You’ll never understand what Steve means to me. We were all each other had for damn near a century. When his pa left, I was there. When his ma died, God rest her soul, I was there. When Stevie was homeless and had no one else and nowhere to go, I was there. When I got kidnapped during the war, he came to get me. Defied all the odds, defied science for fucks sake. And then when Hydra got a hold of me, and the rest of the world was convinced I was dead, he got there. It’s been me and him against the world since the goddamn great depression, so if that makes us codependent or whatever the hell you wanna call it, I don’t give a shit.”

A brief tension filled silence falls over the room, and Bucky’s eyes flick towards the door again, he really can’t wait to get the hell out of here.  
Eventually though, the shield appointed shrink gives a curt nod.

“James, it’s clear you are not ready to talk about the possibility th-”

Bucky shoots up immediately, shaking his head vehemently, as though if he denied the possibility hard enough, he would erase it from existence. He starts making a B-line for the door. He’s got his flesh fingers wrapped around the handle when the therapist catches his arm.

“Let me apologize for the wording, let’s save that discussion for another day.”

Her words do absolutely nothing to quell the bile threatening to rise from the pit of his stomach. He’s not doing this today and he sure as hell isn’t coming back. Her hand remains on his metal shoulder, and Bucky feels like his lungs are going to collapse. The room begins to spin and Bucky is acutely aware that he’s having a panic attack, but he’s not able to do anything about it. Then, momentarily, he’s back there, in the cold, unforgiving clutches of Hydra. He’s alive, he’s alone… oh god he’s alone. Just when Bucky was beginning to actually learn how to be a person again, they’ve found him.They’re going to punish him for attempting to escape, for thinking he was a human.

When he finally recovers, the therapist is prompting him to meet her eyes. She’s not touching him anymore and her glasses are on the ground next to her.  
“Oh god.”- Bucky must let slip out loud, because the therapist is quick to attempt to reassure him.  
There’s nothing she can do to prevent the inevitable sobs that rake through Bucky’s body. She knows that he has just remembered. Any relief Bucky might have initially felt at realizing he was safe from Hydra is immediately squandered by Bucky’s realization that Steve isn’t here. Even though Bucky might be safe, the love of his life is God knows where, almost certainly in imminent danger. And Bucky is here, having a breakdown on his therapist’s floor. So, for the billionth time in his life, Bucky is utterly scared shitless, hopeless and beyond desperate. But, for the first time in a century, Bucky is well and truly alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky should have known that Steve would give himself up for any of his teammates, especially the kid. Bucky should have never insisted Parker go, Bucky should have demanded he be there himself to watch Stevie's six, painful arm be damned. There are a million things Bucky wishes he had done, but instead, on a snowy night in November, Bucky calls Fury, and tells him to have Parker suit up for a “routine mission” that would change all of their lives forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall ! heres chapter 2 ! pls lmk what you think !

When Steve first went missing, as much as Bucky knew it was his own fault. The day it happened, the rest of the team had been summoned for a mission. The debrief seemed simple enough, a lower level alien threat that Bucky really paid no mind to. His vibranium arm had been sore as hell the past few weeks, so it has been determined days ago that he would be benched for the next few assignments. He hadn’t loved the idea of Stevie going out there without him to cover his six, but ultimately, as much as he hated it, he knew Steve was more than capable of taking care of himself and he was in a lot of pain. He finds himself distracted, eyes fluttering around the room before landing on Steve, like they always do. 

They made an agreement early on to not sit across from each other. If there’s anything Bucky knows for certain in this world it’s that he is in love with Steven Grant Rogers, and he’s never exactly been good at hiding it. The first couple of meetings before they made the pact, Bucky found himself lost in his sweetheart’s eyes, trying to challenge him to a game of footsie under the table. Steve, to his credit, did try his best to ignore Bucky’s gaze, citing the “need to be professional Buck.” But more often than not, he found himself returning Bucky’s dopey smiles, inadvertently spurring him on. Needless to say, Fury had been less than thrilled by the lovebirds, making them stay after a meeting to scold them. Bucky didn’t give a damn, and he never has, but the lecture had embarrassed Steve, and as much as Bucky loved to see his baby blush, he would never purposely do anything to upset him. 

So, under the new rules, on this snowy day in November, Bucky and Steve sit next to each other. Thor is rambling, giving every possible detail about the threat the team is about to face and Bucky is bored. Turning to face Steve, he watches him take notes, his tongue pressed against his teeth and his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Impulsively, Bucky reaches for his hand under the table and Steve instinctively laces their fingers together, without batting an eye. 

“With all that being said, I think this mission would be a great opportunity for the young Stark to gain some much needed combat experience.”

Immediately, the room perks up, and Bucky tears his eyes away from Steve to stare straight back at Thor. This is new, a variable Bucky had not accounted for, and it’s easy to see he’s not the only one uncomfortable with the suggestion. 

Stark, known for patented disinterest in anything related to the bureaucracy of shield, has straightened up instantly at the mention of his son. 

“First of all, Pete is not my kid, and I don’t know how many times I have to tell you all that. Maybe I’ll write it on Clint’s forehead. You need me to put it on a billboard or something? I’ll write it in big bold letters for you guys. What about a skywriter? Better yet I’ll use the suit if I need to.”

Bucky uses Stark’s rambling as an opportunity to detach his hand from Steve's, slipping his metal arm over his shoulder instead. Steve relaxes into Bucky’s hold, as he listens to Stark intently, while the rest of the team just rolls their eyes and scoffs at Stark’s antics. 

Everyone in the room has heard this spiel from Stark a million times, but it's entirely meaningless. Bucky has only met Parker a few times, but it’s always been clear that he was Stark’s kid. They’re stuck at the hip, and Stark looks at that kid with so much parental fondness, that there’s not no doubt in anyone’s mind that Peter and Tony are father and son at this point. 

“Get to the point Tony.” Clint grumbles distractedly from across the room. 

“Okay, here’s the point, the kid’s not going. Pete’s got homework and we’ve been working on his massive project for the science fair, kid’s going through a lot and he’s stressed out enough, Plus, the kid’s like nine.So, no.” Tony is curt, eyes darting behind his sunglasses, gesturing with his hands for emphasis at the end of his spiel. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I’m not sure if bringing a teenager on a serious mission is a good idea.” Steve adds, speaking directly to Thor 

“Although I understand your concern brethren, I can assure you,the mission shall be quick and rather effortless, a prime learning opportunity.” Thor retorts. 

Bruce, though,sees straight through Tony’s bullshit, speaking to the underlying concern for his kid, hidden in his message. 

“Well Tony, I know you’re worried about the kid’s safety, but Thor is right. I’ve read over the plan for this mission and it’s as routine as it gets. There have been a few unusual sightings of extraterrestrial waste around Queens. We aren’t even going to fight anyone! Besides, that’s the kid’s borough, eventually he’s going to check it out, whether we are with him or not.” 

Stark goes quiet, he’s contemplating, trying to measure Bruce’s valid point against his own protective instincts. 

Though Bruce’s words may have silenced Tony, Steve takes this moment to speak up again, straightening his back, breaking out his rarely used Captain America to command authority. “Peter barely has any training! I mean this in the most respectful way, but taking him out with us is a liability. We all love the kid, and no one wants to see anything happen to him. None of us could possibly be on our best game if we are constantly trying to watch his back too, and that’s a recipe for disaster.”

The room goes dead silent for a moment. Bruce makes eye contact with Bucky, a silent plea that Bucky is all too familiar with. Bucky lets out a small sigh. 

It might be a new century, but Bucky’s sweetheart is the same stubborn little shit he’s always been. The same punk who won’t back down from a fight or an argument, no matter how petty or serious.   
The only person capable of getting Steven Grant Rogers to change his mind is Steven Grant Rogers, always had been. That being said, Steve does value Bucky’s opinion more than almost anything else in the world, so sometimes, when the avengers know they can no longer appeal to Steve’s sense of reason, they ask Bucky to do their bidding. Usually, he says no. Fighting with Steve sucks, and he hates doing it, so unless Bucky feels particularly strongly about the matter, the avengers typically end up having to let it go, or waiting until Steve comes around on his own. 

This though, Bucky does care about. He knows Parker has been training with Nat the last few weeks, and he trusts Thor and Bruce’s assessment of the mission. Though Bucky and Peter had only interacted a few times, it was clear Parker was a good kid, just looking to help out wherever he could, and Bucky thought it would boost the kid’s spirits. He really couldn’t see the harm in letting the kid tag along, and he tells Steve as much that night as they’re getting ready for bed.

“Stevie?” Bucky calls, as he rounds the corner to the bedroom after brushing his teeth. 

“Yeah Buck?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

‘What about?” Steve questions from the bed. He looks up from the trashy muder mystery novel he had been reading as he waited for Bucky. 

He looks so much better like this, Bucky thinks. Steve looks relaxed, sporting an old SHIELD hoodie he must have snagged from Natasha, and sweatpants Bucky is positive he just took out of the drier. Bucky loves it, loves the idea that he’s the only one that has ever gotten to see Steve like this, so unguarded. He’ll be the last too, if that ring stowed away at the bottom of the sock drawer has anything to say about it. 

He’s wearing his glasses, a rare sight, even to Bucky. When Steve had gotten the super serum, he’d been so overwhelmed by the instant, dramatic changes to his body, that it took him a while to notice the small things the serum hadn’t been able to correct. Once he started to be more aware of the slight strain he still experienced in his eyes when reading, or the occasional moderate back pain leftover from his scoliosis, he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone for fear of sounding ungrateful. When Bucky was finally able to connect the dots, he placed a gentle kiss on Steve’s temple, before throwing his head back against the headboard in humorous frustration with his people pleasing diot of a partner.

Steve’s been working on his self-sacrificing tendencies overall, trying to put himself first, but Bucky huffs. He knows this conversation will definitely be his biggest ask yet. 

Bucky lets out a grunt as he climbs onto the bed to join Steve. He grabs for him immediately, not giving Steve a chance to turn out the lamp or take his glasses off.   
Bucky pulls him to his chest, until Steve is practically laying on top of him, and Steve lets out a soft giggle. At the sound, Bucky pulls back, so he can look Steve in the eyes. 

“Hi.” Bucky whispers stupidly. 

Steve giggles again, and Bucky thinks that might be the eighth wonder of the world. 

“Hi Buck. That’s not a question though.”  
Steve’s words wipe the smile off of Bucky’s face rather quickly. Bucky hates upsetting Steve, and this conversation is inevitably going to lead to an argument. Still though, Bucky tries to quell the unsettled feeling in his stomach, before he reaches out to run his fingers through Steve’s hair and ask him a question. 

“Do you plan on keeping your promise to me?” 

“All of ‘em. ‘Till the end of the line, you know that Buck.”

“You remember promising me you would slow down if I asked you to?”  
Steve flinches slightly, and it’s clear that he remembers. It had been a while ago, when they were both drunk off their asses from one of Thor’s brews. There were a lot of tears that night, and gentle kisses. And as the moonlight reflecting softly on the empty bottles, they traded promises of a future, perhaps a few children, maybe some goats, but definitely some fucking peace. 

“I know Buck, b-”

“Nah pal, no buts. This is me asking. I want the future that we keep putting off honey. I want it to finally be about us.” 

Bucky can feel himself getting a little choked up thinking about it. He never thought he could have this. First the dangers of liking men in the 40’s, then the war, then HYDRA, then SHIELD, but here he is. Holding the only thing that has ever mattered to him in this world, who is ironically, now the only thing stopping their picture perfect plans. 

“Buck, I just can’t do that right now.” Steve lets out tiredly. “You know I want that just as much as you do, but the world needs me right now.“I can’t sleep at night knowing people need my help, and I wasn’t there for them.”

“The world is always gonna need somebody honey. That doesn’t mean you always have to be the one to answer the call.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Bucky blinks up at the ceiling in an effort to not get choked up By the time he looks back down at Steve, shedding his own silent tears, he decides there’s no need to hide, letting a few drop freely. 

“I’m just so tired Buck.” Steve’s whispered words break Bucky’s heart. 

“I know sweetheart. I know.” 

“Who is gonna help ‘em Buck? Somebody’s gotta help ‘em.”

“We’ll figure it out honey. I don’t have all the answers as much as I’d love to give them to ya. But I know where we start.” Bucky brings his metal hand back up to caress Steve’s face. 

Steve wipes his nose with the sleeve of Natasha’s sweater, before trying to bury his face in Bucky’s shoulder. 

“That’s fucking gross Steve.” Bucky remarks, but he makes no move to avoid Steve’s snot ridden face. After all putting up with a little bit of gross is the absolute least Bucky would do for him. 

Steve chuckles, and Bucky considers it a victory. 

“Seriously though baby, you gotta start letting people help ya. I’m not asking you to quit cold turkey, but we gotta start looking at the long term honey.”   
Steve nods. Bucky closes his eyes, not knowing how Steve would react to his next suggestion.   
“What about Peter? I know he’s real young, but his heart’s in the right place. With a little bit of help from you and some time, don’t ya think the future is bright for him?”

“Of course Buck! But he’s a literal child-”

“I know Stevie, I’m just saying, it’s time to start getting ready to let the next generation take over, and Stark’s kid is the best possible little man for the job in a couple of years, yeah?”  
Steve lets out a resigned sigh, and pauses before he nods in agreement. 

“So you gotta start letting the kid tag along. Let him come on the alien trash mission. He’s only ever gonna get the experience he needs if you let him get out there. You gotta start getting ready to hand the reins over sweetheart.”

And maybe it’s a testament to Bucky’s eloquence, maybe it’s because Parker reminds Steve so much of himself, or maybe it’s the past century catching up to him, but for the first time in Steve’s life, he doesn’t fight. 

Bucky should have known that Steve would give himself up for any of his teammates, especially the kid. Bucky should have never insisted Parker go, Bucky should have demanded he be there himself to watch Stevie's six, painful arm be damned. There are a million things Bucky wishes he had done, but instead, on a snowy night in November, Bucky calls Fury, and tells him to have Parker suit up for a “routine mission” that would change all of their lives forever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! sorry its been so long, it also might be a lil while til im back :( pls let me know if you like it, or if you think its shit even, haha. Also enjoy this lighter chapter bc we boutta get into some angst! k love you!

There’s a lot that only Bucky knows about Steve, and Bucky intends to keep it that way. When he’s drunk, he rants about the library at Alexandria, he’s unhealthily superstitious, and he pours his milk before his cereal like a fucking lunatic. Steve is also, the kindest, most generous person Bucky has ever had the privilege of encountering. Steve has a heart of pure gold, always has, and there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind that he would be searching through hell and high water for him if their positions were reversed. Hell, he had. The thought amplifies Bucky’s guilt, and self hatred, but he’s not sure he can do anything about it.

The team had locked him out of the opps center and the training room, insisting this be the week Bucky finally actually opened up to his therapist. Instead though, Bucky is hiding out in his bedroom, avoiding the shrink at all costs. He feels useless, and stupid, and he’s hoping a bit of comforting music might help to take the edge off of the sleeplessness behind his eyes. He’s flipping through the stations mindlessly, hoping to find anything he can recognize, when he hears it. “The radio and the telephone, and the movies that we know.May just be passing fancies and in time may go.But, oh my dear, our love is here to stay, together we're going a long, long way.” He freezes, and all of a sudden, Bucky feels like he’s a teenager again. 

Bucky’s had a shit day to say the fucking least. He’d been taking on extra shifts at the docks for the past few weeks,trying to save up, and the hard labor has finally caught up to his body.He’s all of 17 years old, but his bones creak like he’s nearing 70. He’s sore as all get out, pain coming from parts of his body he didn’t know could ache, so forgive him if he’s a little snippy. All he wants is to grab Steven Grant Rogers by the neck and pull him into bed for the next 15 hours at least. 

When Bucky gets home, on the day before the twins birthday, he hears the party before he sees it. The old radio had been fired up and the opening notes of the charleston seep through the house. Bucky tries to be quiet as he takes off his boots, so as to not disturb them, but when he finally reaches the kitchen, it's clear they are paying him no mind. Bucky’s ma, steve and the girls are caught up in their own little world. Bucky’s ma bounces Margaret happily on her hip, humming to the tune of the song, and laughing at the rest of their family. The twins, each sporting two new french braids they no doubt begged Steve to do as soon as he arrived, are holding hands with each other, bouncing and giggling as they try to keep pace with the music. Becca and Steve though are the funniest picture, what with Steve’s two left feet and insistence he try leading, the pair have their heads thrown back in laughter, trading harmless jabs as they step on each other’s toes. The six of them are making up their own moves and missing the rhythm entirely, but it’s clear they don't care. 

It's by no means unusual for Steve to hang around the Barnes residence when Bucky isn’t home, but since he’d taken a job at the grocery store, his visits had become more scarce. Between art school, the store and taking care of Sarah, Steve doesn’t have much time to spare. 

It’s never been a secret that Steve is an honorary Barnes, and he always has been. Now though, between Bucky working more hours at the docks, Steve’s job at the grocery and Sarah’s condition, they barely have the opportunity to throw each other a glance, let alone spend any quality time together. Maybe that's why Bucky’s breath hitches, at the sight in the kitchen. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation beginning to mesh all his thoughts and emotions. Maybe it’s because it's the first time he’s seen Stevie look this carefree since they’d gotten his ma’s diagnosis. Or maybe it’s just the sight of all of his favorite people, so loose, so loving, but he gulps down a heavy lump caught in his throat.Bucky’s enough of a man to admit he fears his eyes glazing over. The room is hot, the air being saturated with heavy love and the late May heat but it’s nothing compared to the warmth Bucky feels in the deepest parts of himself. 

Bucky’s ma is the first to spot him in the doorway. She flashes him a mile wide grin before pressing a kiss to Maggie's plump cheek. 

“Look who’s home baby!” She whispers to Maggie, who pulls her sticky wet fingers out of her mouth so she can clap in excitement before reaching her arms out towards Bucky. 

“Hi Mags!” Bucky manages to squeak out as he takes his baby sister from his mom, pulling his ma in for a side hug and placing butterfly kisses all over Maggie’s face. 

At the sound of his voice, he has the twins attention, who drop their hands and turn their giggles towards him instead. 

“What do we have going on in here huh? ” He asks, directing the question at no one in particular, as the radio slows to croon out a soft Billie Holliday tune. 

“It’s our birthday tomorrow silly! Ma said we can’t have Miss Sarah over for dinner like we usually do, so we’re having his party tonight!” Lottie yells excitedly. 

“And Stevie said he’s gotta get home real early so he can take care of Miss Sarah, so we had to start dancing without you, otherwise we wouldn't have had the chance.” Rose continues to explain. 

“But Stevie said you wouldn’t be mad, so long as we saved you a slice of cake, so Becca cut you a big piece, just like you like.”

Immediately,Bucky is struck with confusion. Because for as shit of a day that it’s been, he knows what day it is. He’s not a complete piece of shit, contrary to popular belief. He fucking knows it’s the twentieth of may, the day before the girl’s birthday. That’s the whole reason his body aches in the first place, ‘cause he’d been saving up to get the damned sugar to make Lottie and Rose a cake himself. 

Sugar ain’t cheap. Never has been, but especially now, with the way things are looking overseas. His ma is an independent woman damn capable of whatever she pleases, but she would have had to do months worth of sewing jobs to afford something like this. Plus, with 5 children during a time like this, the Barnes family is likely using every penny of income they can acquire. 

Bucky stills with the realization. 

“You bought the twins a birthday cake?” 

The words seem to pull Steve out of the giggly trance he’d been sharing with Becca. He winces, as though he knows where Bucky is headed with this line of questioning.

Seeming to also pick up on the newfound tension in the room, Bucky’s ma grabs for Maggie again before ushering the other girls out of the kitchen, claiming bedtime. Becca just rolls her eyes, clearly of the belief that 15 is way too old to go to bed at this hour, but one sharp gaze from their ma, and she’s trudging out of the room too. 

Once everyone has left the room but them, Steve folds his arms across his chest, the punk’s signature move he’s looking for a fight. 

But Bucky doesn’t want to argue right now. With the day he’s had, and this recent turn of events, a fight with the love of his life is the last thing he needs, but that doesn’t erase the very real hurt he’s feeling in this moment. 

“Did you think I wasn’t gonna get one for ‘em” For some reason, Bucky’s upset. And maybe it’s just because he’s fucking tired, the three days of no sleep undoubtedly magnifying his emotions tenfold… but there it is, the crushing feeling that he’s failed, beginning to settle into his bones, 

“I was gonna get the girl's a cake babydoll, I promise I wouldn’t have made you pay for one.” He’s pleading for Steve to understand, to have had faith in him. 

He’s never been particularly good at being vulnerable, he’s never really had to be. For as deeply as the Rogers and Barnes family are intertwined, where they diverge they differ greatly. Bucky is … well he’s the big brother. He’s always been expected to be the man of the house when his pa is away on business. He’s the one to pick the girls up from school, the one to scare off any of the boys interested in Becca, and when he catches his ma rifling through the empty the savings jar, he’s the shoulder she cries one, before he goes out to the docks the next day to beg for more work. Bucky takes care of his family, that’s just who he is. Always has been. 

Steve furrows his brow, and any sign of fight is replaced by confusion. 

“Buck, what are you on about?” He asks, but Bucky’s too deep in his own head, dazed, blinking tears away as he stares out the window straight past Steve, before a horrifying realization hits him. 

“Honey, you can’t afford sugar! You can barely pay for your ma and your medication!” And oh God. If Bucky had felt like absolute shit before, he feels like the biggest failure to ever live now.The idea of Sarah and Steve going without, just because Bucky couldn’t get his shit together makes him want to sink through the floor. Before Bucky’s able to fully process what he’s done to the Rogers family, he feels the familiar touch of a soft small hand on his cheek. 

When Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, he’s half expecting to see the anger and hatred Bucky feels towards himself in this moment. Instead, Steve is looking back at him, radiating a certain sternness Bucky’s well accustomed to, and the unconditional love Bucky is sure he’s unworthy of. 

“James.” Steve whispers. The simple use of his first name has Bucky’s knees going weak. 

“James, I bought the sugar, I bought my ma’s medication, and I’m doing just fine.” He’s lying, Bucky notices Steve’s slightly labored breath, still recovering from the afternoon of dancing. 

“I’m supposed to take care of you all.” Bucky protests lightly. 

“I can take care of self, you of all people should damn well know that by now.” Steve looks offended by his words, and moves as though he’s going to try and retract his hand. 

“I know that sweetheart. Everybody on this side of Brooklyn knows that by now.” He tries for a joke, and it seems to work, because Steve is no longer actively trying to pull away, even cracking a small smile. 

“I just meant that, I want to take care of you all babydoll. That’s my job.”  
Bucky is a provider, a protector, that’s who he’s supposed to be. If Bucky can’t do that, he’s not sure he knows who he is. And maybe Steve’s a mind reader, or maybe bucky’s just too tired to notice he’s let those words slip out loud, because what he says next hits the nail on the head. 

“Bucky, I know you think it’s your job to protect and provide, or whatever else sexist bullshit your dad tried to convince you of, but it’s not. Your job is to get up every morning and try your best, okay? No one here expects you to be superman. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve been working to get Lottie and Rose their stupid sugar. You tried your damndest Buck, I know you did, but I did the math and there was no way you all could afford something like that this month, it just wasn’t going to happen babe.”

Bucky feels the shame and embarrassment of his shortcomings bubbling inside of him again, and he looks defeated as a tear slips. Steve is quick to wipe them away though, with the trademark kindness he’s become known for. 

“No, Buck, it’s okay though. You wanna know why? Because we’re a team Buck. We take care of each other. So, if your sisters need a birthday cake, or your ma needs a kidney or you need me to just listen to you, I’m gonna be there. I’m gonna always be there.”

Unsure what to say, Bucky follows his instincts, grabbing for Steve's waist, and pulling him close. His sense of self disappointment seemingly at bay for now, he’s suddenly privy to the atmosphere of the room. The Ella Fitzgerald tune plays lightly, and Steve’s deep breathing begins to even out as Bucky holds his love, settling them into a gentle sway. 

His love, who wears newspapers in his shoes to seem taller, who swears like a sailor but says a hail mary whenever anyone uses the lord’s name in vain. His Stevie, who puts his own life at risk so that Bucky’s sisters can have a half decent birthday. 

It’s in this moment, sleep deprived and dirt poor, that Bucky decides he will do anything for Stevie. Bucky thinks it’s always been something he’s known, and he’d admittedly already pledged something similar when they were children. Now though, as teenagers on the cusp of proper adulthood, he means it in ways he couldn’t have understood even a few years ago. He would die for Steve with no hesitation, would kill someone if it came to it, there’s nothing he would not do for Steven Grant Rogers. 

Looking back, modern day Bucky wishes he had never promised anything like that, even in the silent way he did. He should have known he would just disappoint Steve. Bucky had been a failure then, and he was a failure now, except Stevie wasn’t here to lie to him anymore to make him feel better. Steve’s not here because Bucky couldn’t do the one thing he was good for. 

Bucky feels a sudden influx of emotions, he shuts the radio off with a controlled rage, before gathering himself and heading for the door. He’ll fucking break the opps door down if he has to, but he’s going to find Steve, and now. That much he is sure of.


	4. So let go of myself and feel alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky deals with some shit. Just not well.  
> TW// unintentional self harm, please take care of yourself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! im sorry this took so long, sorry this is kinda a filler bc i had major writers block. thank you for all the super sweet comments they really make my week haha. also dont worry tony is in no way going to be a bad guy in this story i love him too much. okay enjoy! :)

Contrary to what the history books say, Steve Rogers actually got into about the same amount of fights as everyone else on their block. History likes to paint the picture of the punk just walking around looking for trouble in the back alleys of Brooklyn, and although that’s sometimes what it felt like to Bucky, realistically it’s not true. It’s just that, in their neighborhood, almost everything was a good reason to fight. When someone was challenging your manhood, you had to fight them. When you felt that someone had disrespected you, you had to square up. The difference between Steve and the rest of the borough, was that he only fought in defense of others. So, when he saw Tommy Rogers wouldn’t leave Lena Stine alone when she denied him a date, or when he heard Mark Harrids call Caddie Lewis a slur, he’d tucked his thumbs into his clenched hands,just like Sarah had taught the both of them, and went to fight for what he considered to be right. Steve only fought for noble causes, he wasn’t out to hurt anybody, just defend the innocent.

Bucky had always admired this, among everything else about his love, especially because that hadn’t exactly been the case for him. Bucky has always been a bit less patient than his other half, a bit more attuned to impulsiveness. He was also bigger, and had more muscle than Steve, which meant that he often found himself at the center of weekly brawls for dominance with the other young men on the block, or throwing down with someone that had insulted Steve. And as stupid, and meaningless as they were, Bucky kind of enjoyed them. He liked the release that he felt whenever he landed an uppercut, the freedom and pure power he felt when he’d finally knocked down his opponent. He was always nervous to mention that to Steve. There’s almost nothing Bucky had ever felt the need to keep secret from Steve, but this, he felt ashamed of. Just a few weeks before the kidnapping, they were curled up with Steve’s head in his lap, when Bucky finally breaches the subject.

“I used to hit kids back in Brooklyn.” He blurts out, pausing the hand that had been running through Steve’s hair. Steve snorted, not taking his eyes off of Emperor’s New Groove, and popping another twizzler into his mouth.

“We all did Buck.” He jokes.

Bucky’s lack of response must prompt something however, and he slowly turns his head so their eyes can meet, and the action has Bucky feeling his heart in his throat. If there’s anything that Bucky knows on this Earth, it’s Steve, and he knows the kid would never judge him for something like this, not after everything they’ve been through. Still though, Steve is just so good. While he was far from the pristine image of Captain America he’s often portrayed as, he is the moral righteousness and honest intentioned that Bucky loves more than anything. Bucky had willingly hurt others, and he’d enjoyed it, a far cry from his days as winter soldier, which he’d come to acknowledge were beyond his control. He tells the younger man this much, detailing his prior inability to walk away from a fight concerning Steve, the way he used to just tussle with other grown men to let off some steam, the joy he used to feel in causing physical harm. Steve goes very quiet, and for a second, still holding their gaze.

“Well do you like it now?” The question catches Bucky off guard and he stills. Honestly, he doesn’t know. Everything is different here in the twenty-first century, and he’s not expected to defend anyone’s honor here. He hasn’t hit anyone for a non-avengers reason since his brainwashed days. He realizes he’s taking too long to answer and makes a split decision to shake his head in confirmation, rather than allowing the conversation to get any more awkward. If Steve notices Bucky is lying he doesn’t mention it, just places a gentle hand on Bucky’s cheek and tugs him towards him for a kiss.

“Good.” He says decisively, before turning back towards the movie.

“But Buck?” “

Yeah sweetheart?”

“Don’t go hitting anybody else for my sake. I can fight my own battles, you jerk.” Bucky doesn’t respond, doesn't say that the punk was capable back then too, but Bucky had still done it. Maybe it’s the so-called provider complex, the team is always teasing him about, but he would promise his honey anything, except this, because as long as there’s breath in his body, James Buchannan Barnes is going to fight for Steven Grant Rogers.

So, six months later, when Steve had been missing for about three weeks, it’s not like Bucky wants to hit Stark. For as much as he dislikes the billionaire, and often wants to ring his neck for the way he treats Steve, he’s never actually wanted to hit him. It’s clear as Stark begins to stalk towards him that Stark is sporting a ratty old MIT sweatshirt that Bucky’s sure he’s seen the kid don, that he’s attempting to blink away the tiredness .He looks about as awful as Bucky feels. As he approaches, Bucky gets a better look at the deep black bags under Stark’s eyes and the slight tremors that wrack through his whole body, though Bucky’s not sure if they can be attributed to the pure exhaustion or the caffeine abuse, he might even be a little drunk, as he stumbles through the room. It’s clear however, that Stark is running on anxiety and agony, courtesy of Bucky’s own doing. Stark breezes by him, barely sparing Bucky a glance as heads straight for the coffee machine. His hands tremble as he takes as he swipes an unwashed mug from the sink, either too tired to notice, or too drained to care. The tremors worsen as he tries to open the jar of grounds, and Bucky lets him struggle for a few minutes, torn on what he should do. On one hand, approaching Tony Stark right now feels like the absolute last thing anyone, let alone Bucky should do right now. He’s distraught, lost and combative, all of which are indirectly Bucky’s fault. On the other hand, it’s clear the man needs help, he’s weak from fatigue and looks like a decent gust of wind could blow him over, and Bucky has ruined his life, the least he can do is try to help the man pour a cup of adrenaline. Before he can stop himself, Bucky is crossing the room and scooping a hefty amount of coffee beans into the grinder.

“Don’t fucking touch it.” Stark growls from the right of him, but he makes no move to physically stop Bucky, as though his body has yet to catch up to his brain,he’s half a second too late, as Bucky starts the machine. As soon as the keurig roars to life, a tense silence falls over the two men, and the last shred of Bucky’s self-preservation tells him to get out. He turns towards the door when he hears Stark’s muted self-deprecating laugh. When Bucky turns back around to face him, Stark is resting his head in his hands on the counter, staring directly back at Bucky.

“I hate you. You know that?” Stark huffs out. "

Yeah, I know that.” Bucky whispers in response, because of course he knows. Stark had never exactly been quiet about his dislike for Bucky before this disaster, and understandably so.Then, Bucky had gone and let his son get kidnapped, surely he hated him, he has every right to. Truthfully, Bucky is just grateful that Stark has let him stay in the tower as the search continues, realistically he doesn’t know where he would have gone otherwise. Still though, Stark’s use of the word cuts deep. Steve used to overuse the word according to their ma’s and Bucky had to hear them both lecture about it at length. “Love and hate are the strongest words in the language, you don't use either of ‘em unless you know you mean it” Bucky’s ma had reprimanded. So, they’d both amended their language, reserving hatred for only when absolutely prompted. Bucky hates HYDRA. Bucky hates nazis. Hatred is reserved for the most vile, cruel and awful creatures. Bucky, wouldn’t like to consider himself any of those things, but Stark clearly feels as though he belongs in that category, and Bucky can’t argue with his assessment. Stark just continues as though he hasn’t said a word.

“I knew my kid shouldn’t have been out there. He’s sixteen! He doesn’t even have his fucking learner’s permit and you asshole wanted him out there as a goddamn avenger!” Bucky flinches at the mention of Peter. Sometimes, he gets so caught up in his grief about missing Steve that he doesn’t feel like he’s taken the proper time to mourn the teenager sized void that has also been missing from his life for weeks now. Peter Parker had also gone missing that day. The kid who had asked if he could be Bucky’s best man when he saw the ring Bucky’s been carrying in his pocket for years.The kid who always asks if they can get milkshakes whenever Bucky picks him up from school. Peter, the kid Bucky considers to be his nephew, had been kidnapped right alongside the love of Bucky’s life. The two people Bucky intends to protect with his life are now god knows where with the very people Bucky swore to destroy. Sometimes Bucky forgets the full weight of his failures and thought has bile rising in his throat.

“And now I’ve got to get my son back by my goddamn self, and you better pray to every god out there that he’s okay because I swear-”

“He’ll be okay.” Bucky interrupts, and he means it.

“Yeah and how do you know that, genius?” For some reason the question angers Bucky. He knows he’s being baited into an argument, and he really doesn’t want to do this right now, but without Steve, Bucky feels exponentially weaker, and he’s vulnerable. He takes the bait.

“He’s with Steve. He’ll make sure Peter is okay.” It’s true, and the both of them know it. It’s a thought that keeps Bucky up most nights, knowing that Steve is out there, alone, scared, and trying to protect Peter all by himself.

“Yeah, because that went so well the first time.” Stark snarks back, and Bucky is beginning to wonder if this is what they both need, a good, old- fashioned dick measuring contest.

“Don’t talk about Steve like that.” Bucky warns, and there’s an edge in his voice to suggest Stark is approaching a line he doesn’t want to cross. “Steve would do anything for that kid, you know that. Do not go there.” Bucky’s tone leaves no room for argument, but of course,Tony Stark has never been one to back down when challenged.

“If Steve would have been the great hero all of you pretend that he is, my kid would be here right now.” Neither one of them are thinking straight, attempting to survive off of coffee instead of meals, and adrenaline instead of sleep is beginning to cloud their judgement. Stark doesn’t mean the nonsense he’s spewing, he’s just trying to get a reaction out of Bucky. He’s trying to see whether anger taking the place of depression can feel any better, Bucky reckons he’s doing the same.

“Tony. That’s your last warning.” Bucky feels his metal fist clench unintentionally at his side. “What are you gonna do about it big guy, you gonna hit me? You gonna beat me up with the arm that I built for you? That’d be a new low, even for you.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, but don’t act like this has anything to do with Steve.” Bucky responds without hesitation.

“How’s this? Your little boytoy was the reason Peter got kidnapped, and it’s my worst nightmare for my kid to be stuck with that selfish prick.” The coffee machine beeps to indicate that the pot is done. The tense silence returns. Bucky won’t pretend he knows what it feels like to be a father missing his son, he can’t imagine the agony of yearning to have his child back. Later, Bucky’ll look back at this moment and feel nothing but shame for letting his emotions get the better of him, when Stark clearly isn’t in the right frame of mind. But when anyone decides to drag Steve’s name through the mud, Bucky can’t help but react. He reaches past Stark and uses his flesh hand to grab the coffee pot and thrashing it into the cupboard door, shattering the glass across the kitchen and slicing into the bare skin on his hand. He grabs a stray shard and points it at Stark.

“Say something like that again, I fucking _dare_ you.” Stark, to his credit, doesn’t flinch, just hold Bucky’s gaze for a few seconds, before giving a tiny nod. Satisfied, Bucky turns back towards the door, leaving the mess of broken glass and spilled coffee to be dealt with later.

Later that night, he wonders whether Steve would be proud of him, and he laughs at the thought. He had just threatened their teammate, Steve would be disgusted by him. Brainwashed or not though, at one point, Bucky had been the winter soldier. If he had wanted to seriously hurt Stark in that moment, he could have done it with his eyes closed. He amends his question then, and wonders whether he would get any credit for not hitting Stark, no matter how bad he might have wanted to. At least this time, the only person that got hurt was Bucky. He wonders whether his mangled, bloody right hand, as an indicator of Bucky’s self restraint would make Steve proud. A twisted, lovestruck, part of himself hopes the answer is yes.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic and I’m super nervous lmaooo. Thanks for reading !!


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